


Want vs. Need

by stellarmeadow



Series: Season 4 Codas/Missing Scenes [11]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, Coda, Episode Tag, First Time, M/M, episode 4.11
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-05 09:14:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1092180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellarmeadow/pseuds/stellarmeadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The lines between what you want and what you need can become very blurry and confusing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Want vs. Need

**Author's Note:**

> I think I bled this onto the screen, so I hope you enjoy it. I'm going to go wring out my emotions now...
> 
> SPOILERS FOR 4.11!

Steve made excuses to Catherine when they left Punchbowl, claiming he'd agreed to drinks with a buddy. He could tell she knew something was off, could see it in her frown. Hopefully she chalked his odd mood up to visiting his father's grave. She knew better than to ask him to talk about his feelings--it was one of the reasons their relationship, or whatever it was, had worked for so long. She didn't push or pry. She just took things at face value and let them go.

He drove around for a bit as the sun started to set. Honolulu wasn't its usual bustling self on Christmas, seeming deserted and lonely, which he'd thought would fit his mood. He wasn't fit for company. He wanted to be alone.

And yet when he parked in front of Danny's house and killed the engine on the truck, he knew being alone wasn't what he needed.

The house was dark, but Steve let himself in and turned on a light, helping himself to a beer and kicking back on the sofa. Danny had probably taken Grace home and would be back soon. He'd bitch about Steve coming over to steal his beer, but there wouldn't be any heat behind it.

Well, not anger, anyway. The heat was there always, a constant buzz in the background anytime they were together. Ever since that night, when they'd come so close to finally taking that last step in this thing between them, it had been impossible to ignore.

So Steve had worked overtime to ignore it. He couldn't be controlled by it, and Catherine still needed him. It didn't matter what he needed. No, what he _wanted_. 'Need' would imply that he couldn't live without it.

He sniffed, catching the scent of Danny in the blanket draped haphazardly across the back of the couch, the memories from that very couch coming back in a vivid rush.

It wasn't need. He could control himself.

He chased away the sound of Danny's snickering in his head with the rest of his beer..

***

By the time Danny walked in, three empty bottles were on the coffee table next to a six pack, and a fourth bottle, nearly empty, was in Steve's hand. Danny stopped a few steps into the room, eyeing the bottles and Steve warily before slowly making his way over to the couch.

He sat down carefully. "Steven."

It was a question, even if it wasn't phrased that way. "Mele Kalikimaka, Danny."

"And a Merry Christmas to you, too," Danny said, watching as Steve downed the last of his bottle and placed it perfectly in line next to the other three. "You know, I'm pretty sure I wasn't gone that long."

Steve shrugged as he pulled another bottle out of the pack. He took the lid off, but Danny took the bottle from his hand before he could drink it. "It was a long day," Steve said.

Danny nodded as he took a long drink. "Christmas can be." He settled into the couch a little, folding his foot under his other leg, and Steve tried not to stare at the hem of Danny's t-shirt, or the sliver of his stomach that was showing between it and his pants. "Did you hear from your mom?"

Steve shook his head. "I'm sure she's busy."

Danny's lips thinned, like he had a few things to say on the subject, but he just took another drink before he asked, "Did you go to the cemetery?" Steve nodded. "You wanna talk about it?"

"No."

"See," Danny said, shifting again, until his knee was pressed into Steve's thigh, "that's funny, because I'm pretty sure that you came here knowing I'd keep digging anyway, so I think you do actually want to talk about it."

" _Want_ to talk about it?" Steve said. "No."

"Need to talk about it, then," Danny said, waving his hand like it was just semantics. Like there was no difference between 'want' and 'need.' Like that very difference wasn't the only thing keeping Steve from literally ripping Danny's clothes off, carrying him to the bedroom, and not leaving for at least a week.

But. That wasn't what he was here to talk about. "I don't...." Steve leaned back, staring up at the ceiling for a moment. "There are a lot of things," he said finally, tilting his head to the side, resting his cheek on the back of the couch, "that I never said to him. I should have, but I didn't. Because I always thought there was enough time to do it later."

And he knew when he said it that it was stupid. He'd lost his mother--or so he thought--at fifteen. He'd seen more death with his own eyes by his 25th birthday than most people did in a lifetime. He had to stop and think hard to recall all the life and death situations he'd escaped. He should know that there wasn't always enough time.

"I had this psych teacher in college," Danny said after a moment. "Smart guy--figured me out in about three seconds."

"Wow, can I have his number for some pointers?"

"Shut up," Danny said automatically. He finished off the beer in one long swallow and grabbed another. "Dr. Reiser was his name," he said as he opened the bottle."And I got to talking to him after class one day and mentioned I wanted to be a detective. Asked if he had any books that could help me prepare for the psychological part of it, for dealing with all that darkness. With death."

He paused for a drink. "Dr. Reiser said that there was no such thing. That the human brain's capacity to delude itself into thinking that there's always going to be tomorrow, that people aren't going to die, is the only thing that keeps us from hiding in a closet and never leaving the house again. And that to go into that line of work, your brain has to be extra good at it. And either you've got it, or you don't."

Steve thought about that for a moment. "So basically you're saying all cops are delusional?"

Danny smacked him lightly on the arm, the spot tingling for completely different reasons after he was done. "I'm saying that you couldn't have gone out there and been Lieutenant Commander Super SEAL without believing that everything would keep going the way it was. You can't beat yourself up for being human, Steven."

"You mean I've actually become a human being?"

Danny laughed softly. "For all that I mock," he said, that tone to his voice that sounded like an audible hug to Steve's ears warming him from the inside out, "I'm trying to say you have to be extremely human to be someone like you."

"Why Danny, I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

"Jerk."

"See, that's more like it."

Danny shook his head, but he was smiling. "You can still tell him, you know," Danny said.

"I thought you didn't believe in life after death."

He shrugged. "You do. And anyway, the words aren't for him. They're for you." Danny put his hand on Steve's shoulder. "I know something about being a father, Steve. And I know you. Trust me, whatever you think you needed to say to him, he knew it."

"I hope so."

"You're not as inscrutable as you think, babe."

Steve studied Danny's face, wondering if there was a hidden meaning there. If Danny knew all the things that Steve was starting to realize might be hiding in his own head, but he couldn't even take them out of their boxes yet and look at them, let alone say them.

Danny was giving him that knowing look, though, the one that made Steve feel like he needed to choose between running out the door, or revisiting that idea of ripping off Danny's clothes.

He couldn't drive after all those beers. But he couldn't exactly rip Danny's clothes off, either. He needed a change of subject. "So, uh, how'd Grace like the skates?"

Danny smiled. "She's going to be the female Gretzky. I taught her a few moves today, but then...."

The smile faded. "Charlie found out who the box we found on the beach belonged to," Danny said, his tone enough to tell Steve what had happened to the owner. "You were right. It's from Japan. The little girl and her mother both died in the tsunami. Only the father is left."

"I'm sorry, Danny." Steve leaned into Danny's hand, sliding under it until Danny's arm was around his shoulder. Steve let his forehead rest on Danny's temple. "What did you do with the box?"

"I have it," Danny said. "I want to get it back to its owner, but...how do you just mail something like that?"

Steve took a deep breath, filling his head with the smell of Danny, trying to ignore what it did to him. "What, are you going to fly to Japan with Grace to take it back?"

When Danny didn't answer, Steve pulled back enough to see Danny's face. "You're going to fly to Japan?"

"I can't afford to fly to Japan," Danny said. "But I would like to. I figure I'll see if there's a way I can get someone to take it over there."

Steve thought there might be a way he could get Danny over there, but he said nothing. He didn't want to get Danny's hopes up. "I might be able to get a Navy transport to take it," he said instead. "I'll ask around."

"Thanks."

"Sure." Steve smiled, meeting Danny's eyes, seeing the sadness there for someone else's loss. That was Danny all over, always feeling other people's pain, always wanting to fix it. Never expecting anyone to fix his own pain for him.

Steve wanted to make the pain lurking in the back of Danny's eyes go away. He leaned in, capturing Danny's lips, opening his mouth to Danny's tongue, losing himself in this until they were horizontal, Danny hot and warm underneath him, a feeling he hadn't realized just how much he'd missed, even though he'd only had it once. The one time he'd stopped because of Catherine.

Fuck.

Steve broke the kiss, dropping his head to rest it on Danny's shoulder. "I'm sorry," Steve said into Danny's shirt. "I'm sorry. I know you...I mean, not until I...."

Danny's arms tightened around him. "It's okay."

Steve lifted himself up to look into Danny's eyes. "It's okay?"

After a moment Danny shook his head. "No, it's not. But what's the alternative? Until you're ready to let Catherine stand on her own, it is what it is."

The way he worded it made Steve frown. "Until I'm ready to let her stand on her own? You mean until she's ready to stand on her own."

"I said what I meant."

"Danny, I want this. I want you. Why would I be holding on to Catherine if she didn't need me?"

And damn if he hadn't put the pain back into Danny's eyes, added to it, even. "For the same reason you wear a Kevlar vest?"

"That doesn't even make sense."

 _It does_ , a little voice in the back of Steve's head said. _You know exactly what he's talking about_.

Danny's sigh hurt Steve's ears. "It will," he said, pushing until Steve sat up and let Danny out from under him. "When it does, you let me know."

Steve closed his eyes for a moment and took a few breaths, calming himself, tamping down on the rising tide of...something, he couldn't figure out what, deep inside. "I should go."

"Probably."

Shit, this wasn't what he wanted. He didn't want this stilted, strained conversation between them. He _wanted_ things to be normal. _Needed_ them to be normal.

Those words again. Steve was starting to hate them.

"Yeah, I'll just....." He got up and started towards the door, but Danny called him back. He turned hopefully. "Yeah?"

"You can't drive on four beers."

"It's okay, I'll walk. It's not that far. And I need the air."

Before Danny could protest, Steve was out the door, running, despite his dress shoes.

He didn't stop until he made it home. 

***

_Danny had known all along it would be this good. Known it in the back of his mind, somewhere around the itch he got every time Steve was near. But he hadn't let himself think about it, because he liked to keep what little hold he had on his sanity._

_That hold was slipping, now, though. Sliding thru his fingers like Steve's hair as Danny tugged on it, trying to find a way to get Steve's mouth back up on his, as hungry for the kiss as he was for Steve's dick in his ass. And with good reason, too, because nothing in the world had ever felt quite as good as that long, slow first glide in, the way Steve's hands had gripped Danny's hips so tight in contrast with how carefully he was opening Danny up._

_Slow and careful had gone out the window now, and Danny was barely hanging on, meeting Steve thrust for thrust, straining--_

Danny woke up alone, gasping, pushing his dick into the mattress. The loss of the dream cooled him, and he stopped, letting out a groan of frustration into his pillow.

Fucking Steve and his fucking issues. If he was less selfless--or less scared of himself, Danny still wasn't sure--Danny could be having what he was sure would be the best sex of his life on a regular basis, instead of dreaming and waking up alone.

Meanwhile, Steve slept soundly next to Catherine, and Danny knew, even though he tried never to think about it, that Steve was not exactly celibate. Because Catherine would've figured out something was wrong by now otherwise. And they couldn't have that, so she got to have him.

Danny wasn't heartless. He wanted her to be okay. But he also wanted Steve. And he was pretty sure Steve was hiding behind Catherine. Why, Danny had yet to figure out, though he suspected, but the last few weeks, he'd had that feeling.

Maybe Steve needed a jolt. A proverbial kick in the pants, so to speak. Maybe he needed to understand a little of Danny's frustration when Steve kept winding him up and then leaving before he carried through, like he'd done yet again tonight.

Before he could change his mind, Danny grabbed his phone and texted Steve. _You up?_

The guy slept like a rock, but the vibration of the phone never failed to wake him, Danny knew. Sure enough, within a minute, he got a response.

_No. I'm sleeping._

_Then you'd better wake up and call me._

Ninety seconds later, Danny's phone rang. "What's wrong?" Steve asked.

"What's wrong?" Danny choked back a laugh. He heard a door open and close on Steve's end of the line, the sound of the ocean more pronounced a few seconds before a familiar creak as Steve sat down in one of the chairs on the lanai.

"Yes, Danny, what's wrong that you had to wake me up at three a.m. to come down here and call you?"

"To be fair, you woke me up first."

There was a pause before Steve said, "Have you been drinking?"

"Yes, though that was a few hours ago." He'd finished off three more beers from the fridge, and knew he wasn't entirely sober yet, but he was aware of what he was doing. "And then I went to sleep, but you woke me up."

"Danny--"

"I was sleeping soundly, Steven, and then I had this dream. About you. About all the things I want from you. And I woke up and thought hey, why should I be the only one suffering? Steve should get to share."

"Danny--"

Steve's voice sounded a little strangled, and Danny took that as a sign to continue. "Do you have any idea," Danny said, his voice low, what it's like waiting for you? I know how your mouth tastes, and what you feel like plastered against me, holding on, and it's incredible."

He could hear Steve's breaths, no longer slow and sleepy now. "But that's all I have," Danny said. "And I want--no, I _need_ to know so many things. I need to know what your skin tastes like. Is it salty from all that swimming in the ocean? Or does it taste like that soap I can smell under your aftershave? You know my car smells like that all the way home after I drop you off? It drives me crazy."

Danny let his free hand travel slowly down his stomach. "I need to know," he continued, "what your dick tastes like. What it feels like in my hand. In my mouth. In my ass. I need to know what it would feel like to have you over me, around me and in me all at once. Could I fit you all the way inside me until it's hard to tell where either of us starts or ends?"

"Danny....."

Steve's voice was ragged, just how Danny had imagined it would sound in bed. Danny gripped his dick. "I need to know what your hand feels like stroking me," he said. "Would you go slow and easy, like I'm doing right now?" He heard a hitch in Steve's breath. "Or would you go for it, hard and fast, take no prisoners?"

He could just make out the sound on the other end of the line, faint, but unmistakable, of a hand on flesh, stroking, the rhythm in time with Danny's. "Slow, huh?" Danny said, the little chuckle strangled in his throat. "I'm a little surprised. Good surprised. Because slow means I could take my time with you. Taste every inch, until there's no part of you I don't know better than anyone else. Until I know every button to push to send you over the edge, and every button to keep you from going over until I'm ready for it."

"Fuck...Danny..."

Damn, that voice alone was something he couldn't have dreamed up. It was perfect, hoarse and needy, and Danny wanted it there in person. But that wasn't the point of this call.

"Tell me, Steven," Danny said, his mouth close to the phone, his voice just above a whisper, "what do you want?"

"You," came the broken reply a few seconds later. "Just...you...."

"How do you want me, Steven? On my back, my ankles around your neck, your dick in my ass? Or on my hands and knees under you? Maybe you want me riding you while you dig your fingers so hard into my thighs you leave prints?"

"Danny...God..."

"Figures you'd like the one that had me doing all the work," Danny teased, his hand speeding up. "But what about what I want, Steve, huh? Once I'm done riding you, while you're still catching your breath, still trying to remember your name, I want to turn you over and bury myself inside you, my whole body pressed against yours, feeling you everywhere, feeling each individual muscle twitch as I open you up."

Steve's breathing was growing harsher still, and Danny could tell he was close. They were both close. "Would you just spread your legs for me, Steve? Let me in with nowhere to hide and no more excuses? Let me just take you, no hesitation? Welcome me in?"

"Fuck yes, Danny, please...."

God, what that voice did to him. Danny gripped his dick tight, his hand moving faster. "Could I come inside you? Nothing between us, stake my claim on you inside and out, once and for all, Steven?"

"Fuck fuck fuck, _Danny_...." Steve trailed off into a guttural groan. Danny pictured him pushing up into his hand, coming hard, flushed and sweaty, Danny's name on his lips. It sent Danny over the edge, the feeling so much more intense than he usually managed with his own hand, pleasure sparking thru him like static after lightning, leaving him breathless.

As his breathing slowed, he heard Steve's doing the same. Danny licked his lips, sated from the pleasure, but still alone, and still a little annoyed about it.

Okay, maybe a lot annoyed.

"Danny...."

He didn't want to know what Steve was going to say. "Go to bed, Steven," Danny said softly. He hung up before Steve could speak.

***

Steve let the phone fall to the ground. He stared out at the waves, searching for the calm their rhythm usually gave him.

It was no use. Danny had taken away every ability Steve had to push all of this down, to stuff it into little boxes and lock them up. They'd spilled out all over his brain after that and he had no idea how he was going to clean up the mess.

Danny. Fucking hell.

Just the memory of Danny's voice on the phone made Steve's dick twitch like it wanted to go again. He'd always known that Danny had a gift with words, but that...that was beyond anything Steve could've imagined. Steve was sure he wouldn't have lasted much longer than he did even without touching himself. The whole thing had robbed Steve of any response.

Not that he'd needed one, since Danny had hung up on him.

That last, quiet, "Go to bed, Steven," had cut sharper than a knife, bleeding Steve out all over the spilled boxes in his head. Danny had sounded so tired, so...alone.

Steve looked down at his body, at his softened dick still lying open on his drying, sticky shorts. He got up, yanked his shorts up and stalked out to the ocean, diving under the waves and coming up only when he had to breathe, but the water didn't hold its usual comfort.

He swam out a little further, picturing Danny lying at home, alone, curled up on one side of the bed, the other side empty and cold. It wasn't fair. Not to either of them.

Or to Catherine.

He didn't know what to do about her. He'd seen enough reactions from friends in the service to know she wasn't healed. Not by a long shot. She was definitely better. 5-0 gave her stability, a purpose. It was how they were trained to get through all the horrors and the loss of friends--focus on the mission, on the meaning of what they were doing. The Navy had given them purpose. A home. Family.

Catherine had given up the Navy and then lost the purpose she'd taken on in its place when Billy had died. All she'd had was Steve. And he loved her, he did. So it wasn't like he could just say 'oh, sorry, I can't do this because I suddenly realized what I feel for you isn't enough.'

Not that he'd ever lied to her. He hadn't made her any promises. Because he had been afraid he couldn't keep them.

Apparently he'd been right.

Because Danny...just over the phone, Danny had been hotter than anything Steve had experienced. Steve had never wanted anyone as much as he did Danny, wanted him to the point that it couldn't possibly be healthy. _Needed_ him. The idea of giving in and then losing that was too much to think about.

He'd had enough now, though, that the idea of not giving in at all was even worse.

And now Danny was fed up. And at home, alone, probably thinking that Steve hadn't even cared enough to try to call him back. He was going to be pissed. And hurt.

Fuck.

Steve did a quick flip and sped up, swimming for the shore.

***

In running shoes, shorts and a t-shirt, Steve made it to Danny's a lot faster than he'd made it home earlier. He'd forgotten his keys in his haste to get out of Danny's house before, though, so he had to pound on the door until Danny finally came to open it.

"What the fuck?" Danny said when he opened the door, clad only in a pair of boxers. "Steve, you can't just--"

The rest of his protest was cut off as Steve pushed inside, slamming the door shut behind him as he grabbed Danny, pulling him in for a hard kiss.

He didn't stop moving, either, lifting Danny up enough that Steve could carry him back to the bedroom. He only stopped when they reached the bed, letting Danny go only to shove him back onto the bed.

By the time Danny was done bouncing from his fall onto the bed, Steve had his own shirt off and was jumping onto the bed, his body halfway covering Danny's. He captured Danny's lips again, letting one hand drift down to find Danny's dick, squeezing it through the thin cotton of Danny's boxers. He loved how Danny surged up into Steve's hand, the strangled whimper that Steve could taste in Danny's mouth causing Steve to shove his own dick against Danny's hip.

The cotton of Steve's shorts was suddenly rough against his dick, and he wanted them off, wanted Danny's boxers off, _needed_ them both naked right that second. "Off," Steve said against Danny's lips, fumbling around the waistband of Danny's boxers. "Off, Danny, God...off!"

Danny squirmed around, the movement doing amazing things to Steve's dick as Danny rubbed against it. "Yours," Danny said into the kiss, after he threw his boxers somewhere. He smacked Steve's ass, pulling at the elastic waistband. "Off. _Now_."

Steve wrestled them off without breaking the kiss, hissing at the first contact of his dick against Danny's bare skin. It was like nothing ever, ever in his life, amazing and terrifying all at once, better than Christmas, better than swimming, better than air.

All of the dirty, amazing possibilities Danny had rattled off on the phone came back to Steve in a heated rush, but one lingered, stuck in his mind. ' _Would you just spread your legs for me, Steve? Let me in with nowhere to hide and no more excuses?_ ' Danny had said.

"Condoms," Steve asked, pausing to nip at Danny's lower lip. "Condoms. Lube."

"What?"

"Need them." The words were separated by kisses as Steve explained. "Need...you. In me."

Danny gasped, and Steve took that as a good sign, until he pushed Steve off him. "Danny, what--"

As Danny yanked open the nightstand drawer, Steve realized what was going on. A condom landed on Steve's thigh. He ripped it open as Danny flopped onto his back, holding up a bottle of lube. Steve took it from him, pausing to look down at Danny, spread out on the bed, naked--finally, what the hell had taken them so long?--and hard and gorgeous.

Steve dipped his head, suddenly needing to know the taste and texture of Danny's dick. It was soft and hard all at once, a taste he could easily get addicted to, just like the sounds Danny was making, or the way he was gripping at Steve's hair.

But he didn't want Danny to come in his mouth. He had better plans. So he let him go, running soothing hands down Danny's sides when Danny protested with his hips and hands. "Shh," Steve said, petting his hips. "Hang on."

He pulled the condom out of its wrapper and rolled it onto Danny's dick, the shiver that ran through Danny's entire body finding an echo in Steve's. He couldn't resist sliding his hand up and down Danny's dick a few times, but then let go, opening the lube and pouring it onto his fingers.

He met Danny's eyes, holding his gaze as Steve slid his hand behind himself, pushing a finger into his body. Danny's irises were almost completely black, only a thin rim of blue around the edges, his eyes tracking every move as Steve pushed up and down on his finger.

It felt good, easier than he'd feared after so long since the last time he'd done this. Two fingers slid in easily, and he was tempted to stop there, impatient to have Danny inside him, but he pushed a third in just long enough to be sure before he withdrew them completely.

He straddled Danny's lap, still holding Danny's gaze as he slowly slid himself onto Danny's dick. He'd done this before, a few times, and it was always good, but he didn't remember ever feeling this charge, like an extra buzz of pleasure that thrummed through his body with every slide of Danny's dick inside him.

They didn't make words to describe how this felt. Clearly they really didn't, because Danny, who was never at a loss for words, who'd driven Steve to do this with his words, was speechless. He was gripping Steve's hips so tightly Steve knew he'd see fingerprints there in the morning, the thought adding an extra current to that buzz in his body. Danny's tongue was constantly snaking out to wet his lips, but the words were gone.

His voice was still there, though, in strangled gasps and moans that Steve knew on some level were going to break him one day. He'd never get them out of his head. He moved faster, trying to coax more and more of them out of Danny, adding to that buzz that was filling his head, drowning out all the noise in there that had been driving him crazy, until there was nothing left in his head, nothing left in any part of him that wasn't Danny. In him, around him, everything. The only thing.

He came hard without even touching his dick, shoving down on Danny's one more time and straining to keep everything inside him, to keep it all from blowing him to pieces. It was too much, he couldn't keep it all, knew any second he was going to just explode, but when he finally became aware of the world, heard Danny's breath in the chest pressed against his ear, he was still in one piece.

Mostly, anyway. It felt like a piece of him had slipped away, something he couldn't identify, necessary to life, but removable at the same time. The feeling left him slightly off center.

He managed to push himself up onto one wobbly arm, looking down at Danny. "Okay?" Steve asked.

"Okay?" Danny's smile was warm. "I think that might be an understatement." He lifted a hand, looking like it was a huge effort to do so. "Little bit of one," he said, holding his finger and thumb close together before letting his hand fall to the bed.

Steve met Danny's eyes, searching, but finding none of the pain there he'd seen earlier. There was something there, though, something familiar, making him pause until it slotted into place.

That thing that had gone missing, slipped away from inside Steve...it felt a lot like whatever he saw in Danny's eyes.

He shoved that thought away for another time. He'd spilled enough boxes for one night, boxes that still needed to be sifted through, dealt with, sorted out, and possibly locked back away, depending on what he found.

"Are you okay?" Danny asked.

His voice was gravelly, dark and sexy, making Steve want to go for round two right now, if only he could. Steve saw the concern in Danny's eyes, knew he would recognize anything other than the truth. "No," he said honestly. "But I will be."

Danny pulled him down into a kiss. Steve followed that one with a few more before he gave in to the heaviness of his limbs, curled himself around Danny, and fell asleep.

\---

END

**Author's Note:**

> Want to learn more about me and my writing? Visit my page at <http://www.jamiemeadowswrites.com/>


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